


Secrets at Dawn

by shiny_starlight



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-14
Updated: 2010-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-07 06:30:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiny_starlight/pseuds/shiny_starlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur wakes up and realises that Merlin has dropped the Crystal of Neahtid, he is not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets at Dawn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [helva2260](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=helva2260), [who won me at aution.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=who+won+me+at+aution.).



> Written for , who won my services in the auction. Wow, that sounds vaguely naughty ;) Anywho, honesty time. This is not the fic I was intending to write for you. I have a longer one in the works that incorporates about three of your prompts and is a general season two coda, but I didn't get it finished in time. My muse decided to pick up and go tooling around America for a while and I started a new job with late hours. So, consider this fic a prequel to the one I intend to finish. I will keep working on it and get it finished soon (hopefully). Sorry! But I hope you enjoy this.

Arthur awoke from his deep, dreamless sleep as the early morning light reached down through the leaves and branches of the trees and made its way _right into_ his eyes. He groaned and shifted in his bedroll as he threw his right arm over his face, hiding his eyes from the traitorous sun in the crook of his elbow. His joints felt stiff and sore from use yesterday. Had they been back in Camelot, Arthur would have ordered Merlin to prepare a bath for him to soothe his muscles and help him relax. But, they weren't in the safety of the castle and, despite what a certain manservant of his liked to insist, he wasn't so spoiled as to complain about the burn of muscles after a satisfying fight, nor the inherent discomfort of sleeping on the ground.

Merlin tended to forget that as the Prince, he had to lead the knights by example. They would not trust him in battle if they did not know him and his ways, or if they thought him soft. No, Arthur had spent many a (pleasant) night out in the borders of Camelot, on patrol or collecting taxes, and sleeping under the stars when they were too far from an inn. Part of him, a large part actually, enjoyed these times away from the castle, and from his duties as Prince and Heir of the Realm. Out there, he was simply 'Arthur' to his knights, many of them his friends, and he completed his share of chores and night watches as was required. It made him feel... accepted in ways he never felt when they were within the castle walls.

The only other time he felt such acceptance and peace was with Merlin.

'_Where is the bloody idiot anyway?'_ he wondered, ruthlessly stamping down the surge of affection he felt when he thought of the boy from Ealdor. Merlin was clumsy, and a fool most of the time, but he was loyal, fiercely so, and he was honest. He had changed Arthur since his arrival, something Arthur himself didn't wish to look too closely at in this moment in time: how the good opinion and friendship of a simple boy from the country shaped and changed a spoiled Prince to a man who would be a good king.

Grumbling, he sat up, scrubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes and looked around. He could see flashes of red through the trees as his men patrolled the area while the rest of them slept. Merlin, who had been perched on the log behind him when he went to sleep last night, was nowhere to be seen. Arthur suppressed the flash of worry as he struggled to his feet. His servant had been acting very strangely last night. He'd been closed in on himself, distracted and incredibly quiet. His usual babble of nonsense was absent, as was the list of complaints and grumbles that always accompanied an order Arthur gave him.

Hopefully he was getting the horses ready for the ride back to Camelot. Wherever he was, Arthur sincerely hoped he was keeping that crystal safe. After everything they had gone through to get it back, his father would have his head if something happened to it. As he walked, Arthur reached over to get his sword that he had stuck into the ground and his foot slammed into something hard. Cursing, he looked down and saw, to his horror, the damn Crystal of Neahtid lying in the grass at his feet. The cloth it had been wrapped in was dropped casually beside it.

Furious, Arthur quickly wrapped it back up and shoved it into this jacket for safe keeping. Where the hell was Merlin? He had some serious explaining to do. First, he let his keys get stolen, starting this whole mess. And now, when Arthur had put it into his care, put his trust in him and _explicitly_ told him to look after it...

He froze mid-stride as it hit him.

The cloth thrown casually aside.

The crystal dropped carelessly onto the grass.

Oh Merlin, you _idiot_.

Arthur was not blind, and, despite what the general consensus seemed to be, he was not stupid. He'd known for a while now that Merlin had magic. He'd always been lucky, but since the boy from Ealdor had pulled him out of the way of an assassin's knife, his luck had bordered on miraculous. With the exception of his run in with the Questing Beast, he had rarely been injured more seriously than a cracked rib or a wound in need of stitching. And considering his nature and his inability to stay in the background, it was quite an accomplishment in the life of a knight.

Plus, it was fairly obvious when Merlin's eyes _glowed gold_ every time he did something magical in his presence.

All his life, it had been drilled into Arthur by his father: Sorcerers are evil; magic is bad and corrupts even the most virtuous of men. After his recovery from the Questing Beast, and he'd learned about Merlin's mother's mysterious illness and his and Gaius' disappearance for days, he'd put two and two together and realised that his 'luck' was the result of _magic_ and _Merlin_. He'd been conflicted upon hearing this. On the one hand, his upbringing and training was screaming at him to arrest Merlin and lock him away before he hurts somebody.

But on the other hand, this was _Merlin_.

Arthur had, admittedly, treated him abominably in the past, piling chore after chore on him until he was almost walking into walls with tiredness. But Merlin had never retaliated with magic. He'd pouted, whined and disregarded orders, but he never used his magic against him. It made Arthur question what he had been brought up to believe; had made him question his father and his teachings. And Arthur was glad he did. He liked to think he was a good man and wanted to be a fair and just king. And it is not just to execute someone for helping crops grow to feed his family.

Besides, Arthur didn't know if he _could_ turn Merlin in. Not when his was the last face he saw at night, and was the first name on his lips when he woke up in the morning. And if he often appeared in Arthur's dreams in between, well then, no one was to be the wiser.

Merlin didn't know that Arthur knew about his gifts. Sometimes, it seemed like he was the only one out of the two who knew how to keep it a secret. Merlin was getting more and more obvious with his magic, flagrantly using it in his presence. His frivolous use of it had almost killed _Gaius_, for the love of Avalon. But to use this crystal out in the open, where any random knight or soldier could have seen him...

Arthur really wanted to beat some sense into him.

He stalked off towards the horses, hoping Merlin was there where they could sort this out once and for all. As he did, Alvarr's words came back to him.

_'You cannot wield the crystal. You do not have the power. None of you do!'_

Apparently, he was wrong.

Just how powerful _was_ Merlin anyway? If we was powerful enough to 'wield' the crystal, what was he doing cleaning Arthur's armour and bed sheets? It was a sobering thought.

"Sire!"

He turned to see Leon hurrying towards him.

"Good morning Leon. Report."

"The scouts you sent out returned a few minutes ago. They reported no more Druids in the area. It seems they have escaped."

Dammit.

"What about Alvarr?"

Leon looked uncomfortable. "He got a bit... talkative during the night. Saying some things Sire, about you and your father."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "He's still alive though?" To his relief, Leon nodded.

"Just... a little unconscious," he admitted and Arthur had to work hard to hide his smile.

"Good," he said, nodding. "Prepare him for transport back to the city. We leave in less than an hour."

Leon bowed and hurried away. Arthur turned towards the horses again, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he found Merlin standing very close behind him.

"Oh for..." he began, taking a deep breath to start bawling him out, but then he took a proper look at his servant. Merlin's usually pale skin seemed translucent with a new pallor. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he took deep gulps as though he had run a mile. But it was the look in his eyes that stopped Arthur cold.

He looked haunted, tormented and absolutely terrified.

"Merlin?"

"S-Sire?"

"What's wrong?" he asked. _'What did you see?'_ he wanted to say

"Sire?"

"Have you slept at all?" Arthur demanded.

"You told me not to, Sire," he smiled slightly. A tiny, ghost of a smile, not even a shadow of its usual self.

"I know. I also told you guard the Crystal of Neahtid with your life, and where did I find it this morning?"

If possible, Merlin paled even further.

"Arthur, I can explain..."

"And I'd love to hear it, but right now, we don't have _time_. Pack up my bedroll and prepare the horses. We are leaving in less than half an hour. When we get back to the castle, I want to know everything."

Merlin's eyes widened slightly at Arthur's choice of words. Arthur nodded at him and stalked off. He was tired of creeping around everything. He was going to bring Alvarr back to the city, meet with his father, and then later, he and Merlin were having a _conversation_.

That decided, he stalked to the nearby stream to dunk his head.

Tonight, he decided.

But they never got the chance.

Later that night, before Arthur had even finished his evening meal, the warning bells sounded.

Alvarr had escaped, aided by someone in the castle.

And after that, all hell broke loose.


End file.
